


My school life

by bighoemosexual



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bighoemosexual/pseuds/bighoemosexual
Kudos: 1





	My school life

Kindergarten  
I barely reach my mothers hips as she takes me in hand. For every step she takes, I take two, and she feels like a shield that hides the world from me. I think we are going to school? She tells me to remember to speak in English, and instructs me again on how to make friends. She smells like sweet flowers and as I inhale in, I wonder what she means? How do you make a friend? She said all I had to do was be nice and share. I hate sharing, I don’t like when people touch my things, it makes me feel like I can’t breathe. She also tells me to behave, and not to worry. How can I not worry? I have never done this before and I’m scared. The building is big, and the kids all ignore me, and I rock, and rock, and flap my hands, and scare them all away. Later when I am older I will realize all I had to do was go up to one of them and say hi.

1st Grade  
I still have no friends but there is one girl with curls that could hold up the sky, who smells of caramel, who always protects me. She shares her desert with me and takes me by the swings and watches me. When we have story time, she always sits next to me and covers me in her blankets. She never says anything mean like the other kids do, and when I rock she rocks with me. I wish she was my friend. Now I know she was my first one.

2nd Grade  
I am taller now and can keep up with my older cousins when they play. I am so tired of school all the time. Everyone is so mean to me and I think I know why. My cousin told me it’s because I do weird things, like flapping, rocking, repeating words, and spinning. I don’t think that's weird. She also told me I don’t seem fun. I think I’m fun, I can throw the ball higher than the other kids can till it looks like it’s heading into space and it’ll land on the moon. That’d be pretty cool! I also know lots of facts about animals, and I use every chance I have to tell the other kids about them. They always call me annoying. I wish they would let me play with them. Maybe they will if I just act more normal? I should have stopped trying so hard to fit in.

3rd Grade   
Today someone called me retarded. I didn’t know what it meant so I went to ask the teacher because I like learning new things. She told me it was a very mean word and not to mention it again. So I decided to ask my mom because she always tells me I can handle anything. She tells me I am smart, and that she knows I am strong. She tells me people use that word to hurt other people's feelings, and that it’s a meaner way of calling someone stupid. Then she asks where I heard it from. I don’t snitch. Everytime she calls the school something worse happens. I don’t want to be the next person they push down the stairs. If I could go back in time it would be to defend myself. I have always been my best shield and armor. 

4th Grade  
New York is so much louder than Rhode Island. Noise is everywhere from the trains, buses, people, and it seeps through the cracks in the walls. I like it here, well not the noise. The kids here are nicer, and offer me snacks, and play with me during recess. My mom tells me I got placed in the gifted program. I’m separated from the other children, who play rough and I spend all my time in the library. I would say my talent is finding dark quiet places, with just enough light to read, and that it was developed during this time. I’ve always felt safest with all my limbs locked in, and my eyes closed.

5th Grade  
I’m almost in middle school! I’ve grown and I’m sad to be leaving my friends, but I think some of them were placed in the same middle school as me. I secretly dread my elementary graduation. My cousin told me about them, and I already know I won’t like it. I wish I could do what I did before, because digging my nails in until I bleed, and scratching myself hurts. I miss spinning in the grass, but nobody makes fun of me anymore, and I like it better this way. I know it will be too loud, and when I get home I won’t be able to stop myself from hitting my head. But for now I will smile and hope it looks normal. I will let people hug me, and have the pressure be too light. I will walk across the lawn and ignore the stares and whooping of parents, and try to make it across. I will shake the hands of the principal and watch him wipe my sweat off of him on his cheap suit. Then I will eat at Red Lobster with my family and hold in the need to scream and run away to somewhere quiet and dark. I will take the train and grit my teeth, until we make it to our stop, and I will hold it in. I will hold it in. I will hold it in. I have to. I have to. I will be normal….

6th Grade  
I am in middle school, and everybody is crushing on each other. I don’t know what a crush feels like. My mom told me it feels like butterflies in my stomach. I don’t even have it in me to ask her what that means. A boy asked me to go out with him, and I only found out it was a joke when I told my friend and she yelled at him. Her skin looks like ebony pearls, and her fingers are shaking near his face and I stand there and watch his friends laugh. I watch as she gets detention and I get told to be less sensitive. Later during gym he pulls my hair and calls me retarded. I finally learnt what it means. Unwanted, too different, not normal. It means any nasty thing people think about me. It means I have to try harder. I will do anything to not be called that again. 

7th Grade  
At least I have friends. At least I have people who tolerate me. That will just have to be enough. I will work on my studies and try to be good enough for them. I will try to be good enough for everyone, because I can’t handle the weight of not being normal. 

8th Grade  
I had a horrible graduation, because my father showed up. He yelled at me in front of a crowd of people, and I ran. I felt everything, my hair at the curve of my neck, the stitching on my dress, the sounds around me. I couldn’t take it anymore, and did what I have been wanting to do for years, and ran. My friends caught up to me and we must have looked ridiculous. All of us running in our sparkly dresses, and curly hair, parting the crowd of excited parents and 13 year olds. They found me and held me and I rocked. Later we will find my mother and grandmother and pretend it never happened. I will try to look in their eyes the way they have told me is respectful but makes me feel like worms are crawling underneath my skin. They will take pictures of me, and make a huge fuss over me. I will hold it in. I don’t want to worry them. I just want to be normal. I’m starting to wonder when I will ever reach what everyone stands upon so easily. I’m already out of breath.

9th Grade  
I felt too overwhelmed in bio so a boy took me under the dark desk in the corner of the room, and pressed against my side. He said I looked overwhelmed, and asked if I wanted to eat lunch with him tomorrow. I did and made friends, on my own! And I was so confused because I always felt so anxious around him. I wanted him to tell me more about the stupid things he was interested in, and he did. I found myself watching him when we sat at our afterschool program. The curve of his jawline, and the way the sun shone through his dark hair. We would sit at the swings and he told me it was boring to be normal. He smiled and the sun set behind his black eyes. I feel safe enough to rock, and he smiles when he sees my flapping hands. I think I understand what everyone felt like in 6th grade. 

10th Grade  
My friends think I’m autistic. I have a cousin who is, and he never speaks. I’m not like that. But they think I am, and the more they press it the more I feel unsure. They get me emotion cards and practice with me. They come with me when I play volleyball and shout encouragement as I set the ball higher and higher until I think it’ll never come back down to hit my fingertips. They tell me I should do what makes me feel comfortable, and when people stare they bark at them. It’s so silly but it makes me laugh, and I think that's why they do it. I feel safe. I feel loved. I don’t want to be normal.

11th Grade  
He kisses me and it makes my hands drum softly across his chest. He takes my hands and laughs as we spin in the shade of the trees. He does stupid things with me just to see me smile, the real one that isn’t so picture perfect. We dance in the rain, and I have to dry myself in a public bathroom, but I hum to myself as the sogginess fades. We eat chocolate crepes at cafes, and I no longer feel stickiness in my stomach when I look at the mirror. He tells me I’ll regret not telling my mom. I finally bring up how I felt growing up, and how I feel now. My mother tells me she is disappointed in herself for failing me, and I feel her tears land on my hands. They could make up an ocean. I don’t know the right words, so I pat her back and hope she feels better. I tell her we should watch her favorite cooking show. She puts it on and I feel her heavy stare on my face. I turn and catch her looking at me. She mentions how delicious the eclairs look. I feel weightless. 

12th Grade  
I am almost an adult. I know my graduation will be taxing but I shed the need to be acceptable in others eyes. I know what my place in the world is, and it is a path I will carve with my own shaking hands. I will take that diploma, and I will smile in my pictures. The real one that scrunches my eyes until my irises are barely visible, that causes my dimples to make a surprised appearance. I will eat dinner with my family, after I take pictures with my friends. They will hug me and I won’t feel like screaming. I will stay up all night talking to him, and as his breaths become even I will look at the large round moon and feel happy. I will be someone I can be proud of. I will live a life where I will wear a 100% cotton lab coat, and scrunch my nose as I smell paint dry on my canvas. I will be happy, because I finally believe I deserve to be.


End file.
